


Fate's Reprieve

by SAHuchton



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deep Roads, F/M, Hinterlands (Dragon Age), Love, Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Valammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7476108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAHuchton/pseuds/SAHuchton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a post-Inquisition Thedas, Inquisitor Lavellan has settled into a relatively quiet life with the ex-Templar who stole her heart. With the shadow of the Dread Wolf looming over them, is asking for more asking too much?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate's Reprieve

 

 

***ONE***

 

She took a deep breath and smiled as she gazed out the window, watching the afternoon sunlight play in the shadows of leaves on the glass. Such an odd thing, those little moments. Seconds that meant absolutely nothing, yet somehow imprinted themselves in her memory. Minuscule slices of time without any real meaning, yet so full of clarity, down to the scent of the dust on the wooden window frame, the whirring of marble on marble grinding together, the air just barely edging into a warmth not quite uncomfortable, but close. There was nothing special about the moment itself, really. It was just a mundane thing; quiet, unassuming, and utterly unremarkable in any way. 

There was no reason it should be etched into her soul, yet there it was. 

She gave a nod of acknowledgement, releasing it with a slow exhale. It passed in a heartbeat, but it would always be with her, one of those things to draw on at the most unexpected times to recenter herself. Closing her eyes, she tucked it away beside the other memories like it: an empty stairwell of stone free of the myriad voices of Skyhold, sitting on a stump around a fire on an afternoon following a brief hunt with her clan, and the stillness of a cloudless sky from the back of a cart on a well-traveled road. 

So many little moments that meant nothing, yet everything. She loved them all. 

With a silent thanks, she returned to her work, not at all surprised to hear the door outside open and close, proceeded by the familiar stomp of heavy feet. One of her favorite sounds, the sounds of a soldier— her soldier— returning to her. 

“Another one for you,” Cullen Rutherford, his armor long since stored in a dark closet, tossed the missive on the dining table without looking. “Don’t they know you’re retired?” 

Shianna glanced back from where she was grinding elfroot for a poultice, tossing a small smile over her shoulder. “Is that what I’m supposed to be? Seems about right. I was only tired at Halamshiral, now I get to be tired and re-tired and over-tired and—” 

Her words disappeared in a little laugh as his arms wound around her waist, and he brushed a soft kiss along the nape of her neck. 

“You make jokes,” he murmured against her skin, “but do you really think a single day is too much to ask for without those infernal birds pecking at our windows?” 

She let the pestle rest along the side of the mortar bowl and turned in his arms, brushing a blond wave of hair from his forehead. “And give up the odd bit of traveling I get to do? I think you’d get terribly sick of me if you didn’t get to miss me every now and then.” 

Cullen caught her chin as she leaned up to kiss him, stopping her before her lips reached his. “You know that isn’t true. After everything, no matter how much time passes, I’m still terrified to blink for missing a single second with my wife.” 

Her insides coiled, fluttering at the word. _Wife_. Two years gone, and it still warmed her down to her toes. Every time he said it, something in his voice, the breathy inflection of it, the longing in his eyes, it was the same as the first time he used it. 

Forever his. 

“Ne’emma lath, emma nehn,” she whispered. “Always.” 

At last, his fingers drifted up to her cheek, and his kiss sealed her promise. As much as she loved him, it only made it more difficult when letters arrived. Even before she so much as looked at the parchment, she knew what it said. She’d been expecting it for weeks. It’d been too long since a solid lead came in, and the past few days saw an uptick in messages that signaled one thing. 

More time apart. 

When his arms loosened their hold on her, she saw it in his eyes. He knew as well as she did what it meant: she had to go, he had to stay. 

“The new arrivals are due in tomorrow, aren’t they?” she asked, avoiding the inevitable conversation. “How many did you say were coming?” 

Cullen sighed and kissed her forehead. “Three, unless something happened on the road.” 

“Did you know them before?” 

He shook his head and stepped back, leaning against the heavy kitchen table. “One I knew by reputation only, but the other two were barely more than recruits in Ostwick when the circles rebelled. It’ll be an easier transition for the younger two, but Bazil has a decade more than them of lyrium use to overcome.” 

Every few months their collection of former Templars grew slightly larger. They came in ones and twos, as many as six in a single group once, and that year they’d been forced to build a barracks on the farm. When they first moved to their plot of land near Lake Calenhad, Cullen thought perhaps they’d see two or three at most, but the new arrivals would make an even twenty. With so many hands to put to work and mouths to feed, their small garden turned into a full working farm, complete with roaming druffalo and a respectable herd of horses. 

She was exceedingly glad she’d squirreled away a handsome sum before leaving Skyhold, otherwise they’d have been destitute within six months of the Inquisition’s disbanding. Recovering addicts didn’t feed themselves. 

“And you’re certain they’re aware of my… you know.” 

“I don’t think there’s a soul in Thedas that doesn’t know you’re a mage,” he chuckled at the question. 

Shianna rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the elfroot. “There’s no need to be flip. It’s a valid question. Just because one ex-Templar took a shine to me, doesn’t mean the others will. And being an elf certainly doesn’t endear me to anyone. Especially not given…” 

Her words trailed off as worry returned. It never really left her, of course, but speaking of the looming darkness always brought it closer. The not knowing, the waiting, the lingering sorrowful threat of a friend with good intentions… It was always there, scratching at the back of her mind. 

Eventually, Solas would try something that couldn’t be undone, and not knowing exactly what that was stole a little joy from every moment, no matter how hard she fought against it. Despair was a terrifying enemy, more so because swords and spells were useless against it. 

As though he sensed her precarious mood, Cullen picked up the rolled parchment and took her hand, setting the most recent letter in her palm. “Maybe it’s good news this time.” 

She tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. With a slow breath, she concentrated on the paper. It floated up before her, uncurling at her will to display the familiar scrawl of Sister Nightengale. Shianna missed her days of not needing magic for every mundane task, but the loss of her left hand made it a necessity. 

 

_The entrance stands open from half to full. Delivery requires personal attention._

 

“Kaffas,” she cursed under her breath. “I hate that place.” 

Cullen chuckled. “Cursing in Tevene now? Dorian would be proud, but perhaps you’ve spent a bit too much time with that sending crystal.” 

She snatched the note out of mid-air and marched it to the fireplace, tossing it in with more disdain than necessary. “I have to go to Valammar. Dalish is too soft to adequately convey my meaning.” 

He straightened, concern drawing his brows down over his eyes. “The Deep Roads? Is that really necessary?” 

Staring into the embers as they crept up the parchment, turning it to ash, she scowled. “It’s one of the few places we’re mostly certain _he_ can’t get into. She’d only send me there if secrecy was a major concern. Whatever Leliana has for me, it’s big enough to warrant venturing into darkspawn territory.” 

“I’m going with you.” 

Tearing her eyes from the burning letter, she shook her head with a sad smile. “I appreciate the gesture, but we both know you can’t, not with new arrivals coming in.” 

“The others can get them settled. It’s nothing they can’t—” 

She stepped up to him, pressing a finger to his lips. “You know as well as I do that the first few months are the most critical. You can’t leave, Cullen. As much as both of us want that, you know you can’t.” 

Relenting, he sighed and pulled her tight against his chest, breathing in the scent of her hair. “How long until I have to let you go?” 

Tucked in below his chin, she pressed her ear against him, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. “The door will be open from the half moon to the full, so I’ll have to leave in two or three days to make it there on time. Sera’s not far, so I’ll send for her, and Bull might be skulking around Ferelden this time of year. Dorian says he was headed south through Nevarra when he saw him last, and that was about a month ago.” She peeked up at him through dark lashes, her wide elven eyes gleaming mischievously. “Would you feel better if I hired his entire company to come along?” 

“Is that an option?” 

She laughed and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Not if you want to eat come Firstfall.” 

Turning away, she yawned a little, but tried to hide it. She’d been so tired the last few weeks, but wasn’t about to let it derail her. She couldn’t afford to be tired. There was too much to do to leave the world to its own devices. Chalking it up to the constant weight of responsibility, she shrugged it off and headed for her writing desk. She had companions to gather and not much time to do it. 

 

* * * * * 

 

As the raven flew away with a loud caw, Shianna yawned again. With the sun sinking below the horizon, she stretched and inhaled the scent of food coming from the kitchen. What had Cullen got up to in her absence? Generally he ate with the ex-Templars, a habit that helped build camaraderie amongst the recovering lyrium addicts, but perhaps her upcoming trip prompted him to take a night off. Smiling at the thought of him cooking, she wandered out of the small study, her fingers brushing the edges of his desk as she passed by. 

She still had to fight off giggles at the memories that bit of furniture held. It wasn’t the easiest thing to cart away from Skyhold, but definitely worth the trouble. 

At the kitchen, she paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame to watch him set the table. Forever precise with everything, Cullen adjusted the placement of a fork, frowned, then adjusted it again before moving on to repositioning the butter dish and basket of sliced bread. Without noticing her, he hurried around the table, fetched a lidded pot from the stove, and transported it back to sit beside the lit candelabra illuminating the place settings. She watched his face, completely amused at his singular focus. His eyes shifted back and forth across the table, his mouth moving as he checked items off his mental list. 

Unable to hold it in a minute more, she chuckled a little. “What’s all this? Is it some special occasion I’ll feel absolutely wretched about forgetting?” 

At first surprised, Cullen recovered quickly, approaching her in greeting with a kiss. “Can I not do something special for my wife without any reason for it?” 

She lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “Absolutely, but you’re still not coming south with me, so I hope this isn’t an attempt to convince me otherwise.” 

Taking her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers, soft, yet unshakeable. “Not at all. Hungry?” 

Her eyebrows twitched with a mischievous grin. “Depends. What’s on the menu?” 

A brief laugh rumbled in his throat before he took her hand, leading her to a chair. He leaned down to her ear as she sat, his voice a deep whisper that made her consider forgoing food entirely. “First? Something my mother used to make. Mia gave me the recipe, so I hope I haven’t completely botched it. If I have, there’s always dessert.” 

“While I admit to some curiosity about this recipe, would it be wrong of me to inquire about skipping straight to that other bit?” 

“And have me waste two hours of work? That’s unfair.” 

“I could make it worth your while.” 

Laughing, he scooted her chair up to the table. “Humor me.” 

She could never say no when he used those two little words, and so, she put aside one physical need for another. Cullen’s culinary concoctions were always interesting, in one way or another. When he’d cook for the men, it was a no-fuss affair, like a hearty stew or soup, but with her he always went a bit further. Sometimes it was the simple beauty of an edible flower atop a green salad, other times he’d spend all day roasting a slab of meat with an exotic spice she brought home from one of her exploits. When they first met, she never would have pegged him for the domestic type, but since the Inquisition disbanded, he’d settled into a mostly quiet life, building a warm, welcoming home she was always happy to return to. 

In the glow of candlelight, she caught a glimpse of his battle worn features, his scar more pronounced than in sunlight. For a split second, she could swear she saw a twinge of anxiety pull at his expression, but it was gone by the time he lowered himself into his chair. 

He smiled when he glanced up at her. “Something the matter? You look vexed.” 

Embarrassed to be caught analyzing him, she busied herself with her napkin, wondering if it wasn’t her imagination playing tricks on her. “Not vexed so much as curious why you’ve gone to all this trouble. You’re buttering me up for something, I know it.” 

He waved it off. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is no such thing.” 

As he was clearly set against making any confessions, Shianna let it go. She’d known him for too long to underestimate his stubbornness, no matter how certain she was that he was lying to her. Whatever was on his mind, he’d get around to telling her eventually. 

Dinner was lovely, although not really what she thought it would be. Thin slices of ram meat simmered in a brown gravy, small potatoes ringing the pot. Because he was very particular she eat it in a specific way, she watched on with amusement as he showed her how to layer the meat atop the buttered bread and drizzle the perfect amount of gravy over it. It was extraordinarily difficult not to laugh, but as he seemed very serious about the meal she indulged him. 

“Well?” he asked as she took her first bite. 

Smiling, she wiped her mouth as she chewed, swallowing before giving him an answer. “It’s lovely, but…” She paused and frowned a little. “I can’t quite place the flavor. Something in the sauce, maybe. It’s familiar, though.” She shrugged. “I’m at a loss.” 

Cullen smiled to himself and continued slicing his food into bite-sized pieces. 

“Are you not going to tell me?” 

“It’s a family secret.” He grinned at her. 

She burst out laughing. “In case you forgot, I _am_ family. Or are you ignoring that singular moment in Halamshiral where we did that whole exchanging of vows bit? You remember, I wore a dress, of all things. Ringing any bells?” 

Chuckling softly, he continued with his meal. “Not a thing I’ll ever forget, my dear. Just eat. Perhaps I’ll tell you later.” 

Resigned to being kept in the dark, she returned to her food and the meal proceeded without further argument. Every now and then, she’d catch him watching her, but that wasn’t unusual. When they’d taken their first tentative steps towards a relationship, he’d blush furiously when she caught him gazing, but anymore it was simply a part of life. She was guilty of the same, of course, as it always felt like they’d managed to pull off the heist of the age in finding so much happiness in one another. All told, they lacked for very little, and what they didn’t have... 

Her thoughts darkened, and she tried to push them aside. She knew only one thing could possibly make them happier, but the potential cost of that... 

“You have that look again,” Cullen said over the top of his tankard. 

She put on her best innocent expression, batting her lashes. “What look is that?” 

With a chuckle, he set his cup aside and stood, offering his hand when he reached her. “The look of a woman in need of a distraction.” 

“Or dessert?” 

“Potentially the same thing.” 

Pulling her to her feet, he led her away from the table, down the short hall to their shared room. There, in their small sanctuary, nothing else mattered. He turned to her, and with gentlest of tugs, drew her into his arms, beginning their dance.  

His hands drifted down to her waist, resting in the curve of her hips, and they swayed together, slowly easing their way into the room. With restrained, gradual motions, he pulled at the ties of her trousers, the buttons of her vest, the hem of her tunic, until nothing remained between them. And on they danced. Strains of music floated through their shared memory, keeping cadence with an Orlesian waltz none but the two of them could hear.  

In a heartbeat, the tempo changed. In kisses tinged with smoldering need, his lips trailed from her mouth to linger where neck and shoulder joined. At the barest touch of his teeth, she gasped and bit her lip to hold back a soft moan. Pressing her against the poster of the bed, he gripped her wrist above her head, the other hand exploring her delicate curves as he had so many times before. 

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. 

When he lifted her, she arched her back, welcoming him inside. Legs wrapped around him, she followed his rhythm, her breath catching with every thrust, every perfect motion, every sensation he conjured. He was everywhere and everything. 

Needing still more, he released her hand, and she clung to him, fingers digging into his back as they moved to the mattress. Cullen hovered over her, brown eyes intent on her gaze. Desperate passion turned to deliberate discipline, his movements controlled, specific, and methodical, now keeping time with the thrumming of their pulse. It pounded in their ears, a drumming to drive them onward. He knew exactly what she needed, and would never give her less than all of himself.  

Forever hers. 

Her body tensed, teeth gritted as she felt the pressure building within. Faster, he always refused himself release until she was ready. Harder, she couldn’t contain her groan of need. He watched her, the sweat beading on his brow, pushing, reaching for that perfect connection, the moment they would feel together, know together. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan. Ne’emma vehnas,” she panted against his mouth. “Sahlin. Bel’annar’is!” 

Her words drowned in a guttural moan as she peaked and tumbled over the edge of desire. He met her release with his own, letting go of his rigid control to fall as she did, following her into the bliss of their joining. His kiss kept her anchored, tethered to the moment as she reveled in the feel of his scars and the scent of his sweat. Cullen trembled in her arms, shaking from exertion and utter surrender. 

“Say it again,” he whispered against her skin. 

“Hmm?” she murmured through a happy daze. 

He pulled in a long breath. “Just now, you said something in elvish. I didn’t quite… My attention was elsewhere.” 

She huffed a laugh. “You need more practice, vhenan.” 

“I know that one,” he said, nipping at her earlobe. “My heart.” 

“Mmm.” She nodded. “Ar lath ma.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Ne’emma vehnas. You are my home.” 

“And the rest?” 

Gentle kisses on her neck distracted her briefly, but she continued. “Sahlin. Now, this moment. Bal’annar’is. For eternity.” 

Rolling to one side of the bed, he pulled her against him, fingers gently trailing along her spine as he settled in. “It might be nonsense, but…” He rested his cheek against her forehead. “My father used to talk about this dish my mother made for him the day after their wedding. Always said it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, and grumbled about her never making it again the same way she had back then. I never thought much about it until after you and I went to see my family, but Mia pulled me aside one evening and handed me a folded parchment. Make it once, make it for her, she said.” 

Shianna tilted her head back to look at him. “The one you made tonight?” 

He nodded. “My mother made it regularly, you see, with one small change. That first dinner she added a secret ingredient. Her mother had passed this recipe to her, and so on and so forth, all of them only serving the full recipe once to the men they married.” 

“And what’s the secret ingredient?” 

“However long ago this started, it began with an elf giving one of them a bit of powdered halla horn. They said whoever shared the dish you made with the ingredient would be with you not only in this life, but even after, into whatever lies beyond the Fade. Two souls, forever tied. Forever joined.” He sighed and smiled into her hair. “Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not. Maybe one of the women in my family made it up and there was no Dalish elf to begin with. But, if it’s true, how could I pass up that chance? Wherever you go, I want to follow. That will always be my truth.” 

She grinned against his chest. She’d never heard of such a thing within her clan, but so much had been lost to time. Of all the things to hope for, that seemed as good as any. 

“Bel’annar’is, vhenan. You’ll get no argument from me.” 

 

* * * * * 

 

Something stirred her from sleep. A noise. Something… buzzing? Shianna shifted in bed, eyes still closed and trying to block it out. What was that? It sounded like…

Gasping, she leapt out of bed, flailing and certain she was about to be swarmed. 

A nasally, rippling laugh stilled her, though her pulse continued pounding in her ears. 

“Well that got you movin’ then, didn’t it?” The familiar voice instantly changed her mood from panicked to irritated. 

Shianna snatched up a discarded nightshirt to cover herself, utterly unamused by the rude awakening. Sera lounged in the corner armchair, idly peeling an apple with a sharpened arrow, short blonde hair falling over her eyes. 

“About time you got up,” she said, tossing a bit of the peel into her mouth. “Been here for hours. Got your bird. Where we headed this time? Some knob punching down again? Need a hand punching back?” 

“Emma sham’nan, Sera,” she grumbled and tugged the shirt down. “You don’t wake your friends with bees.” 

Another laugh. “Relax, yeah? They’re all tied up in that sack. Not going anywhere.” 

To demonstrate her point, she stood and released the buzzing bag from where it was tied to the poster, dangling near Shianna’s pillow. Sera waved it around a bit and grinned, then cast an appraising look down her body. 

“Some of us got softer, fatter, but not you. Look at you, all glowing and whatever. Your Cully Wully’s got the moves, eh? Pity, that, but it takes all kinds, I suppose. Not bad, though, eh, Quizzie? Some changes are nicer than others.” 

Unprepared to deal with all of Sera right that moment, Shianna sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes. “Could you give me a minute, please? Maybe let me get dressed and, I don’t know, wake up properly before we get into this?” She wasn’t feeling well, and really hoped she wasn’t having a bad reaction to last night’s dinner. 

Sera shrugged and slung the sack of bees over a shoulder, striding out of the room to finish her apple. “Sure, sure. Whatever. I’ll be out here when you’re all presentable and such.” 

The moment she was gone, Shianna felt her stomach lurch. Without a better option, she threw open the window and leaned out. With a split second to spare, her body heaved, spewing what felt like everything she’d eaten in the past week onto the ground outside. 

“Kaffas,” she spat once the dry heaves subsided. “This is not the time to be sick. He’ll barricade me in the house if he thinks I’m ill.” 

Whatever it was, the moment passed, and by the time she dressed and brushed out her dark hair, everything seemed back to normal. As a precaution, she clipped a leaf from the potted elfroot on the desk and chewed it as she left. She’d have to see to the mess on the side of the house before Cullen returned from his morning exercises. 

“All better then?” Sera asked from her perch on the kitchen counter. “Recovered from your little scare?” 

Shianna shot her a brief glare. “Yes, thank you, and don’t think I’m going to forget that anytime soon. Although…” She trailed off into a soft chuckle. “That might be an even trade for where we’re going.” 

“Shite,” Sera grumbled. “It’s demons isn’t it? It’s always demons.” 

She shrugged as she put on the kettle for tea. “Not outside the realm of possibility, but darkspawn are far more likely. Possibly spiders, if the darkspawn haven’t got them. I thought we’d pay a visit to Valammar. Maybe see an old friend.” 

“Valammar? You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking. You hate the Deep Roads as much as I do. What’s so important we have to kick that hornets’ nest again? Who’s the old friend?” 

“Might be our bird, might be one of her progeny. Won’t know for sure until we get there. I sent a raven to Bull as well, but who knows how far away he is. Heard anything about the Chargers lately? Are they around?” 

“A Jenny said something about a Tal’vawhatsit and his mercs near Jader last week, so maybe not too far. Could be he was on his way to see you. Doesn’t he visit every now and then? Usually after he sees a certain magister, if memory serves. Big ox like that, sometimes needs a woman’s touch with that big ol’ stick of his. Specially since him crying on your shoulder might wind you up with a horn stirring your brains about. Sticks are probably better.” 

Shianna smiled a little as she stuffed a small cotton bag with tea and herbs. “Dorian did mention something like that a while ago. The Chargers are good company, but I imagine they don’t let him grouse the way I do.” 

“Softy,” Sera chided. 

When the kettle whistled, she poured the hot water into the mug and grabbed the bucket from a low cabinet. Only slightly hesitant, she quickly put on a bright smile and headed for the door. “Would you mind starting breakfast? I’m just going to… water a few plants. Be back in a moment.” 

Not giving Sera the opportunity to ask questions, Shianna hurried outside and scooped a bucketful of water from the horse trough around the side of the house. Trying not to look suspicious, she kept herself from running to the back, and, as casually as she could, looked around to see if anyone was watching. As it appeared all clear, with only the faint sounds of swordplay echoing from the other side of the barn, she breathed a low incantation, directing the water over the place she’d been sick, doing her best to spread it as far as she could and covering what was left with the loose dirt around it. Satisfied it was as good as she could get it, she headed back inside to forget about the whole thing. 

Sera hadn’t moved from the counter when she returned, and her flat look was anything but nonchalant. 

“What?” Sniffing a bit, Shianna returned the bucket to its proper place before busying herself with making food. 

“What sort of plant were you watering? Black lotus?” 

“This is a farm, Sera. We grow all sorts of things here.” 

“You always fertilize them with sick first? Don’t know much about nature garbage, but pretty sure that’s not a thing.” 

She winced as she retracted her hand from the basket of eggs. That was a hazard of having clever friends. They never missed much. 

With a sigh, Shianna turned. “Look, if Cullen caught wind of that, he’d never let me leave, and that’s not an option. He made something odd for dinner last night, and it simply upset my stomach. You might not be concerned with his feelings, but I’d rather not wound my husband’s pride over a bit of indigestion. I’m fine. Nothing else to discuss.” 

She snorted. “We’ll see, I suppose. So when did you want to leave? Not that I don’t enjoy the rustic hospitality and all that, but…” 

“Depends on the Bull, but no later than day after tomorrow. We still have to gather supplies and all that, then it’s a few days ride to Valammar if we take a boat part way. Not ideal, but you know how these things go.” 

“Weeks without his Quizzie? How ever will your Snugglepuss survive?” 

Shianna made a face and cracked an egg over a bowl. “Please don’t ever call him that again, and, for that matter, I’m not the Inquisitor anymore, Sera. That nickname makes it rather difficult to blend in around Thedas.” 

“What should I call you, then? None of that elfy nonsense. That lethawhathaveyou or anything like that.” 

“You could try my name.” 

She burst out in a twittering giggle. “Still too elfy. What about Mrs. Rutherford? Or we could go back to Herald. That’s still a thing, yeah? Ooh! I’ve got it! Harold! With an ‘o,’ right? Because—“ 

“I think I changed my mind. Can we go back to Quizzie?” 

Sera nearly fell off the counter from laughing. “Not a chance. Congratulations, Harold. You’re officially named. For good this time.” 

Sighing, Shianna resigned herself. Once Sera decided a thing, nothing would ever convince her otherwise. 

Several weeks on the road as Harold. She supposed it could’ve been much, much worse. 

 

***TWO***

 

“This never gets easier, does it?” Cullen’s arms tightened around her in the dark. “I swear I think its actually worse than last time.” 

She burrowed deeper in his embrace, cherishing his presence. “Not worse, only closer than your memories. I’ll be back before you know it, though. This trip isn’t as long as the last one.” 

“You say it’s only a week or two, but I can see this dragging out a month at least. A month of worrying. A month of a cold bed. A month without someone to ease my nightmares. You’ve been my life for so long now, I...” He sighed and took her fingers, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you this way, not when you’re setting out tomorrow.” 

Smiling as she took in the smell of his skin, the lingering scent of leather and sunshine, carving it into her memory, she did her best to reassure him. “It’s not a burden to know you’ll miss me, vhenan. If you _weren’t_ anxious, I’d be concerned.” 

“I don’t want you to worry about me, though. You’ve enough worries for half of Thedas as it is.” 

Shianna shifted in his hold, leaning up on what remained of her left arm to see his face. “Worry is how we know the depth of love. Even if I’m here I worry for you. I worry your dreams will take you somewhere I can’t reach. I worry I’ll wake up to realize our life was some illusion of the Fade. I worry every single day that no matter what I do, all of this will burn when he sets his plan in motion. I can’t sit here and do nothing knowing he’s out there, biding his time. I won’t let him take this from me, from us.” 

His fingertips skimmed her cheek, following the line of her jaw. “Have you considered perhaps that task will fall to someone else? Cassandra was certain only Hawke or the Warden could help at the conclave, and yet it wasn’t either of them we needed. Has it occurred to you maybe your part in these events is done?” 

She bent and brushed a kiss across his nose. “Wishful thinking, but you may be right. I don’t know whatever’s coming won’t involve me, though. Perhaps I won’t be at the heart of the mess again, but there’s no escaping playing some part. I know too much about what came before, too much about what he wants, to not be. Even if it’s not my hand that saves the world, whoever that ends up being will need my help.” 

“It’s terrible of me, but that thought is more comforting than you realize.” 

“It’s also slightly frustrating,” she chuckled and settled back in against his side. “As someone who likes control so much, I’m sure you can relate.” 

“Was that a complaint?” 

“Hardly. I quite enjoy that particular aspect of your personality. It’s especially endearing when accompanied by those little silk ties in your desk drawer.” 

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “A shame our guest put a damper on that tonight. Did you know she still threatens to steal you from me when you’re out of earshot?” 

“I hope you’re not actually concerned about that. She’d never do that to Dagna. Sera tries to hide it, but I doubt anything short of death would part them. That’s how Sera is. Once she’s decided about you, for good or ill, that doesn’t change.” 

“And the Iron Bull. You’re certain he’ll be here?” 

“The Chargers should be rolling up no later than mid-morning. Krem has a few odd jobs for them to do while the Bull comes south with me, so they won’t be in your hair for too long.” 

“I don’t mind them sticking around. They’re a good distraction to the others, which is especially helpful when they have bad days.” 

“That reminds me,” she said, “how are the new arrivals? I saw them heading out to the fields today. Any opinion on how they’ll do?” 

Cullen released a slow exhale. “As I suspected, the younger two are fine for now, and in good spirits despite it all. Bazil, however, was already in withdrawal when they showed up yesterday. It’ll be a rough few weeks ahead for him, but there are plenty of hands to help him through it. It’ll keep me occupied while you’re gone, if nothing else.” 

“If anyone can help them, it’s you,” she said, covering a yawn. “You’ve shown them it’s possible to change their fate.” 

“I wonder sometimes,” he mused, running gentle fingers up and down her arm, “if you hadn’t come along, kept me on this path, would things have turned out differently? _Would_ I have overcome it?” 

She yawned again, sleep pulling at her. “Some battles can’t be fought alone, vhenan. But does it matter? In the end, you were the only one who could make the choice, and you did. All I know for sure is how glad I am for your strength.”  

As she drifted into slumber, he laid a kiss atop her head. “And I for yours.” 

 

* * * * * 

 

The beautiful chaos that was the arrival of the Bull’s Chargers served as a welcome distraction from the approaching departure. The company arrived with all the subtlety of the Empress of Orlais, if one substituted bawdy jokes and laughter for heralds and blaring horns. They watched them approach from inside the house, only venturing out after the initial wave of greetings subsided and the company headed for the stables. Shianna and Sera had done most of the preparation for the journey, but Bull was very particular about certain things, most specifically, his mount. 

“Bloody awful, those things.” Sera shivered. 

Shianna shook her head and sighed. “I never did understand the appeal of a bog unicorn. But you know why he likes them. The whole unnerving his enemy thing, not to mention their size is better suited to a qunari.” 

“So’s a red hart, but minus the sword-through-head bit,” Sera insisted. “Dumb ox probably only keeps it to put me off.” 

“I doubt that’s true.” 

They stood outside the house, waiting for the mounts to be tied up and watered. It wasn’t long before the blustering presence of the Iron Bull rounded the corner, arms spread wide and grinning. 

“Boss!” he said, his voice booming against the side of the building. “You missed me after all.” 

Before she could reply, he scooped her up in a full body hug, easily lifting her two feet in the air. 

“Bull…” Shianna squeaked, barely able to catch a breath. “Katoh, Bull. I can’t—” 

“Watch the goods there, you,” Sera smacked his arm. “All that business with demons and Coryphenus, be stupid to break her now.” 

He set her down, and she coughed a bit to recover. “Sorry, Boss.” 

Shianna huffed a laugh. “Good to see you, too. Thanks for coming on short notice.” 

Bull waved it off. “You know me, always here to help. So, what—?” 

Looking around, she opted not to speak in the open and cut him off before he could finish the question. “Sera, would you let Cullen know we’ll be headed out soon? I’ll fill in the blanks for Bull.” 

Sera rolled her eyes and turned away. “Sure, sure. Always happy to play fetch for you.” 

Ignoring the sarcasm, Shianna motioned him to the front door. “Come inside for a moment, won’t you? The sun’s a bit much right now.” 

In the small living room, she leaned up against the mantle, waiting for the qunari to take a seat. He sprawled across the couch with a groan, stretching his massive legs out in front of him. “So what’s the deal, Boss? Why the need for secrecy?” 

She shrugged. “Could be nothing, but we had new arrivals the other day. I’d rather be cautious than dead, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fair enough. So where are we going?” 

“Valammar.” 

“The Deep Roads? And here I thought we’d go somewhere exciting for a change.” He grinned mischievously. “Run out of high dragons to kill so all that’s left is darkspawn, huh?” 

She shook her head, smiling. “Something like that. We’ll be meeting someone there, but the message wasn’t specific about who. Thought it was best if I brought backup.” 

“So you thought one of me and a prickly city elf were enough in case of ambush?”  

She shrugged in answer. “Well, you’re a bit like an army by your lonesome, so it seemed the most efficient way to go about it. How long before you’re ready to go?” 

“The Chargers are loading Incaensor up with what I need, so not too long. Maybe another ten minutes or so.” 

“You named your bog unicorn?” 

“Yep.” 

“That sounds Tevene.” 

“And?” 

“Do I want to know what it means?” 

A sly grin crept over his face. “Something dangerous, but useful if controlled. It’s also an insult to magic-using slaves up there, but you know how Vints are. Always taking the best stuff and trying to fuck it up as much as possible for other people.” 

She sighed and shook her head. “As much as I adore the both of you, I have no idea how you get on so well with Dorian. Does your pillow talk consist of hurling insults at one another?” 

“Are you sure you really want to hear about that?” 

Holding her hand up in surrender, she let him call her bluff. “Forget I asked. He absolutely hates it when I tell him how adorable you two are together, but that only works if I actually believe it. Too many details might ruin it for me.” 

With a laugh that vibrated through the floor, he let it go. “I won’t spoil your fun then. So where’s Cullen? I’m ready to hear his requisite threats about keeping you safe so we can get started with killing shit.” 

As she opened her mouth to answer, the door swung open, a glowering Sera first inside. “Woof, woof,” she said, clearly unappreciative of being sent on an errand. 

Shianna smiled sweetly back at her. “Buzz, buzz.” 

She gave a disgusted grunt and stepped aside as Cullen entered, wearing the puckered look of concern he reserved for departure days. 

“Bull,” he said, clipped. 

“Commander,” Bull replied. 

“Not anymore, but I swear to you, if—” 

Bull sighed and waved him off. “I know, I know. If anything happens to her, you’ll call back the entire Inquisition army to come after me. I got that one last time.” 

“If so much as—” 

“A hair on her head is harmed you’ll pull the string of every ally you’ve got, and I’ll never work again. You used that before we went to…” Bull paused to think. 

“Kirkwall,” Shianna finished for him. “Varric had something for us.” 

“Oh right! Where we ran into that really grouchy elf with the tattoos with Hawke. He had some choice words for you, didn’t he?” 

She nodded, drifting into memory. “Didn’t he say something about being from Tevinter? Dorian would’ve loved his flair for killing spiders.” 

Cullen cleared his throat. “Back to the matter at hand, I’m just warning you that if she comes back missing any more appendages, I’ll—” 

“Ooh! I know this one!” Sera chimed in. “You’ll hold us personally responsible and bring down a wrath upon us so fierce it’d make the old gods tremble. Did I get that right?” 

As Cullen simmered, Shianna took pity on him and crossed the room, lifting up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “They’ll do everything in their power to protect me, just as I would them. After everything else they’ve been through on my account, perhaps threats aren’t necessary anymore, hmm?” 

Closing his eyes, he took a long, slow breath and wrapped his arms around her. “I know, but what else can I do?” 

“Pay us up front?” Bull suggested, prompting a snort from Sera. 

At hearing Cullen suck in a sharp breath in preparation for angry words, Shianna pulled away and held up her hand to stop him. Her knotted stomach was in no state to deal with more bickering. “Would you two give us a moment, please? We can leave shortly.” 

With a grunt of compliance, the qunari hefted himself off of the couch and herded Sera outside, leaving husband and wife to say their goodbyes. 

“Sorry,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “I just hate these days.” 

“Which is why I didn’t yell at you.” Shianna rested her palm against his cheek, gazing up at him with soft understanding. “It isn’t easy for me, either, you know. When nothing’s certain, every moment is precious, and I hate the thought of wasting any of them with unnecessary trips. I’ll ride like the wind, vhenan, until the moment I’m home with you again.” 

At that, he swept her into his embrace, his lips meeting hers with a desperate passion that only worsened the ache in her chest. Cullen had been right the night before, no matter how she tried to brush it off. Each time she left, it was harder, more painful than the last. But what else could she do? 

“There’s little I wouldn’t give to make it so you’d never have to leave again,” he whispered against her mouth. 

“Someday, vhenan,” she said, fighting back tears. “Someday I can give you all the things you—” 

“Shh.” Fingertips brushed her lips, quieting her words. “We’ve discussed that. Don’t let it weigh so heavy on you, love. Even if it’s never more than you and I, no lifetime is long enough to contain all the happiness that alone would bring me. For now, just come back to me, all right? The rest can wait.” 

Shianna exhaled through the sharp pain that was usually content to sit as a dull ache in the back of her mind. She had to remind herself that if she had a normal life, she never would’ve known Cullen, but whenever she was called away, she wished for nothing more than a quiet, uneventful existence. A life away from the masses that knew her face. A life that didn’t require subterfuge and shadows. A life free of the promise of destruction left by someone she’d counted amongst her closest friends. A life where her biggest concern was getting crops planted and harvested on time. A life punctuated by the laughter of children, rather than battles. 

A life she wanted more than anything, but was denied by one defining moment millennia in the making. 

It was a struggle, but she managed not to cry. As exhaustion seemed to be her normal state, she leaned into Cullen, letting him support her weight for just a moment. If nothing else, at least she could hold on to the memory of the brief reprieve in his arms. It was all she really needed, after all. So long as he was there to come home to, that was all that mattered. 

But she needed to ensure that would always be the case, and that day, time apart was the price she had to pay for it. 

She took a deep breath and pulled away, gathering her weight back on her own two feet. It was time. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” she said, pouring every bit of love she had into the statement. 

Cullen smiled and touched her face. “Bel’annar’is.” 

Shianna turned and plucked her staff from the wall, Hakkon’s Wisdom crackling with electricity as it exuded subtle clouds of frosted air. It balanced perfectly in her hand, as it was made specifically for her with Dagna’s expert skills. She took a moment to align herself with the weapon she wished she didn’t have cause to use anymore, then flipped it behind her back, holstering it between her shoulder blades. 

The scent of dust on the window sill. Shadows of leaves on the glass. 

“I’ll be home soon,” she said, smiling for him one last time before heading out the door. 

 

* * * * * 

 

An hour was all she could stand to ride. 

Shianna dashed into the woods, hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to get as far away from her companions as she could. Not that there was any hiding her sprint from saddle to trees, but she refused to vomit in front of them on top of it. 

Was Sera laughing? 

Unable to take another step, she braced herself against a tree and heaved, the contents of her stomach spilling out over the roots with a splash that only heightened her nausea. Why? She’d been fine after the morning Sera arrived. No fever. No lingering abdominal cramps. And if it had been something off with anything she ate since then, at least two other people would’ve been in the same sickened position, so why was Sera all right? Cullen hadn’t seemed out of sorts, either. 

Something in the way the horse moved beneath her, combined with the heartache of leaving home and the stress of what waited in Valammar, had put her guts into full reverse. After an hour of enduring the bobbing and swaying of the saddle, her body staged a total revolt. 

Why? Why now? She had a short window of opportunity, and couldn’t afford any setbacks on their timeline. 

After a minute or two, the queasiness subsided, and she spat in an attempt to rid herself of the acidic taste in her mouth. High dragons and ancient magisters couldn’t take her down, but a bit of nausea sent her fleeing. Her companions would tease her mercilessly over it, that much was certain. 

But rather than jokes, concerned expressions met her when she returned to the road. 

“You all right, Boss?” Bull tilted his head slightly, squinting at her with his one eye. 

Shianna waved her hand, dismissing it. “Just nerves. It’s harder to leave every time, you know? I’m starting to think maybe I’m not as suited to this as I was a few years ago, but I’ll be fine.” 

He shared a look with Sera, some unspoken conversation passing between them. 

“Something you want to share?” 

Sera shrugged and nudged her horse forward. “Nah. You’re good, right?” 

After the briefest hesitation, Shianna stuck a foot in a stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle again. “Absolutely. We should pick up the pace a bit, though. The longer our contact has to wait for us, the riskier it is. Catching a boat from the Lake Calenhad docks down to Redcliffe shaves off a few days, but that boat won’t wait forever.” 

“I’m surprised Old Kester is still kicking around there,” Sera said as they started out again in earnest. “Ancient, that one. Still shoots his mouth off, though. Tries not to, but his foot is just stuck there, I think.” 

“You know him well, then?” 

She shrugged as they trotted down the side road, heading for the Imperial Highway. “Been through a few times. Not ever stayed too long because of that tower there. Place still reeks of demons and burning shite. Think Redcliffe’s all cleaned up finally?” 

Shianna adjusted herself in the saddle, already feeling the ache in her legs and back. “Guess we’ll find out when we get there. I haven’t been there for almost a year now, but they’ve made good progress. The castle got the worst of it with Alexius, but Arl Teagan strikes me as someone more concerned with his people first. He was rebuilding, but not at the expense of recovery for the Arling.” 

Sera blew out a dismissive noise, fluttering her lips. “Just more noble knobs.” 

“It’s not like I’ve got warm feelings for the man or anything. I respect him for his honesty even if I disagree with some of his politics. He’s a far sight better than most of his ilk.” 

“Suppose that’s true enough,” Sera grumbled. 

Concerned by Bull’s unusual silence, Shianna turned in her saddle to look back at him. The qunari wore the oddest look, distant and introspective. She only saw him look that way on a handful of occasions, and typically when in Ben-hassrath mode. 

“Bull?” 

“Yeah, Boss?” 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Just plotting out our route in my head. Wanna make sure I know it inside out.” 

She lifted an eyebrow, dubious. Bull was an excellent liar when he wanted to be, but he wasn’t trying very hard at the moment. Still, if there was something he wasn’t telling her, it was probably for a good reason, and Shianna trusted him implicitly. If she needed to know, he wouldn’t hesitate to share. Resigned, she faced forward once more and focused on her breathing. With any luck, she’d seen the last of her nausea for a while. 

 

* * * * * 

 

She gripped the edge of the railing, giving serious consideration to pledging herself to the Chantry if their Maker had the cure for seasickness. A full miserable day and night passed aboard a barge crossing the length of Lake Calenhad, and she’d been heaving for the entire trip. Since when did she get seasick? How many times had she crossed the Waking Sea without so much as a hint of nausea? It was relentless, and she nearly wept for joy when the docks at Redcliffe came into view. 

Redcliffe village was much the same as the last time she’d been there, if not perhaps slightly more bustling as things settled down after the mage-Templar war and subsequent Inquisition involvement. As one last dry heave wracked her body, she caught a glimpse of the castle, scaffolding still crawling up its outer walls as repairs progressed. 

Finally, the barge pulled up to a small pier, and Shianna wasted no time disembarking. Collapsing with relief near the stone walls lining the waterside thoroughfare, she rested her forehead against her knees and took long, deep breaths through her nose as she waited for Bull and Sera to collect their mounts. 

“I have never, in all my life, been so glad to have my feet on solid ground, and that includes the fight with Corypheus.” 

“We should probably keep moving,” Bull said, hovering over her. “Unless you wanted to recover at the Gull and Lantern for a night, we could probably make it to one of the old camps before nightfall.” 

While the thought of getting on a horse sounded fairly wretched, they couldn’t afford to waste a day. She craned her neck to see Bull gazing down at her, that same introspective look in his eye as he offered her a hand up.  

Sighing, she took the assist and shook her head. “Best to keep going. It’s been two days since the half moon, and we can’t risk it. Why waste eight hours of travel time?” 

“You sure about that?” Sera’s brow wrinkled. “Still lookin’ a bit green there, Harold.” 

Shianna rolled her eyes and took her horses’s reins from her. “I’m perfectly fine. It’s been a while since I was on a boat. Lost my sea legs.” 

Her companions shared a glance, but said nothing more on the subject. Irritated and tired from a nauseous night on the barge, she took point, leading her mount past the merchant stalls along the water, then gradually winding up the main road out of town. Was it just her, or had it gotten steeper in the last year? The walk was slightly more tiring than she remembered, but, then again, she had spent the past twenty-four hours unable to keep the smallest scrap of food down. It made sense she’d be a little weak from it. Just past the gates of town, the three mounted up and headed south.  

By lunchtime she was feeling considerably better and managed to keep an entire apple, dried meat, and water in her stomach, which greatly improved her mood. That was exceedingly fortunate for her companions, as several hours later, the rocky terrain of the Hinterlands finally claimed a casualty. Near the mouth of the pass leading to a small river, Sera’s horse nearly unseated her when it lost a shoe. 

“Blast it,” Shianna grumbled. “We can’t afford to lose the horse. There’s too far to go over these hills for us to double up riders. Thoughts?” 

Bull shrugged. “I’m no smith, Boss.” 

“Ugh! Stupid nature! Arsehole rocks!” Sera snatched up a large pebble and chucked it off into the distance. 

Shianna rubbed at her face, trying to think through her exhaustion for a solution. If they went due east from there, they’d hit an old camp in an hour or two. But if they went west... 

She dropped down from her saddle and led the group off the road. It wasn’t much, but the small, elevated clearing backed up to low cliffs, and boulders provided some measure of protection. “We can camp here tonight, then cut over to Redcliffe Farms. Horsemaster Dennet returned there after Corypheus fell, so I imagine he’d be willing to help us out with the shoe. We’ll save the horse a few hours travel by staying here. Sound good?” 

Bull nodded his agreement and set about unloading his tent. Sera grumbled about nature again, but otherwise didn’t argue. 

At dinner, the three sat around the fire, Shianna idly picking at the nug they caught and roasted for dinner. Despite not having eaten much, something about the smell of it put her off. Odd, considering she’d grown quite fond of the taste over the last half-decade. 

Sera nudged Bull with an elbow, then tilted her head towards Shianna. “Well?” 

Bull lifted an eyebrow in mild exasperation. “Go right ahead. Hardly my place to say something in this case.” 

“What are you two on about?” Shianna asked. “Say something about what? To who? Me?” 

Bull grimaced at Sera’s insistent nudging, then fixed his gaze on their friend. “We were just wondering when you were planning on telling us.” 

Looking back and forth between them, Shianna couldn’t hide her confusion. “Telling you what?” 

“Oh, you know,” Bull wiggled fingers at her, “about the… you know.” 

“What? Why are you acting so strangely? Do you think I’m keeping something from you?” 

Sera rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise. “About the baby, Harold. You really thought we wouldn’t notice?” 

She stared, stunned. “The _what_?” 

Pointing at Shianna’s stomach, Sera looked insulted. “Your bun in the oven. The Inquisikiddie. Your. Baby. Why didn’t you tell me straight off?” 

Shianna burst out laughing. “You think I’m pregnant? Don’t be ridiculous. I might’ve been a bit under the weather the past few days, but nothing like that. Have you lost your minds? If I was, do you think I’d have dragged you both out here?” 

“Yes,” they answered in unison. 

She scowled. “Nonsense.” 

“Sick first thing in the morning the other day,” Sera said, counting off her fingers, “sick on horseback, flat-out crippled by nausea on the boat, not to mention those dark circles you’ve got there, and you’ve hardly touched food I know you like. Why are you being stupid about this?” 

Shianna waved it off. “All of those things are explainable. I’m hardly being stupid, Sera. Step into my boots for a bit and see if a few years of trying to save the world doesn’t exhaust you, too.” 

“She’s right, Boss,” Bull said. 

She snorted. “What would you know about pregnancy?” 

He leaned forward on his elbows, frowning at her. “It’s useful for a Ben-Hassrath to be able to spot the signs. Gives insight on politics and scandals.” 

Crossing her arms, she refused to give in. “Absolutely ridiculous. Don’t you think I’ve been cautious about that? The problems that would pose—” 

“Unless you’ve got yourself a chaste marriage with the commander, no matter how careful you are, accidents happen.” 

“Pfft. Chaste marriage. Clearly you’ve never spent a night within a mile of those two.” Sera snorted a laugh. 

Shianna stood, chucking her unfinished meal into the fire. “Very funny, but the joke’s over. I’m not pregnant, and I won’t hear another word about it.”  

“Boss—” 

“Wake me when it’s my turn for watch,” she cut him off, throwing open the flap of her tent. “I’m going to bed.” 

But despite her best efforts, sleep was a long time coming. Even though she insisted they were wrong, doubt nagged at her. Could it be possible? They’d been so careful. With Solas’s parting threat hanging over their heads, both she and Cullen agreed that having children was a risk they couldn’t take. If Bull and Sera were right… 

She turned on her side and pinched her eyes closed, trying to force sleep, but instead loosing a slow stream of tears instead. He avoided the topic whenever possible, but she knew how badly he wanted children of his own. Seeing him with his nieces and nephews showed such a deep level of joy and caring within him, it tied her in knots knowing how wonderful he’d be as a father. How many nights had she stared at him as he slept, fighting with herself about whether or not to throw all caution to the wind and take on that burden? Maybe it would be all right. Maybe no one would use their child against them. Maybe it would grow year by year and nothing terrible would come about. Maybe the baby would become an adult, completely capable of defending itself and keeping the world at bay. Maybe Solas would grant them all long lives with children and grandchildren and so on before he made his move. 

Maybe it would be all right. 

But they’d decided together, hadn’t they? It wasn’t a decision she unilaterally made. Cullen was more a voice against it than for, though she knew it pained him. So, what then? Would he be angry? 

Should she even tell him? 

Shianna swiped at her eyes, mad at the tears she couldn’t stop. It was ridiculous to worry over that on top of everything else. After all, there was no way she could be pregnant. She’d been exceedingly careful in that regard, employing several methods of tracking her cycle coupled with a few potions to guard against conception just in case. While nothing outside of abstinence was foolproof, she was very confident in her abilities to prevent unwanted pregnancies. 

She sucked in a sharp breath and wrapped her arm around her middle. 

No. 

Not unwanted. _Never_ unwanted. It simply wasn’t safe for them. Her life was barely survivable for her, never mind a baby. 

But, oh, how she wanted that more than anything. 

 

* * * * * 

 

When she made it to late morning without the slightest sign of nausea, Shianna started to relax. Wasn’t that proof enough she wasn’t with child? Her appetite returned as well, and she shoveled in breakfast in record time, eager to get on the road again. The sidelong looks of her companions persisted, however, which detracted slightly from her satisfaction over the absence of sickness. 

Near to lunch, they crossed the river and emerged over the rise descending into Redcliffe Farms. Nostalgia tickled at her, reminding her of the Fade rifts she sealed there and people she met. The first time she entered the little community cradled in the rolling hills, not many knew her name, and fewer offered her allegiance. Somehow, she managed to overcome prejudices and suspicions, eventually creating solid ties to the farmers and shepherds there. Returning to them felt easy, simple, although time could very likely have changed their feelings. 

Dennet met them outside as they approached the stables. His bushy white eyebrows lifted in surprise when he recognized his visitors, and although his expression seemed friendly enough, it was tinged with the edge of anxiety. 

“Well now,” he said, crossing his arms as they dismounted, “can’t say as I expected to see you lot around these parts. Hope you’re not bringing trouble with you.” 

Shianna shook her head and smiled. “Not unless you count a thrown shoe as a cataclysmic event, no. How are you, Dennet? Is the family well?” 

The tension in his shoulders eased with her answer, the crease in his brow smoothing some. “All in good health, yes. A thrown shoe, you say?” 

She motioned back to Sera’s horse. “That one there. Back right hoof. Would it be too much trouble for you? You were the closest option we had at the time. I hope you don’t mind us coming.” 

“No trouble at all, if a shoe’s the only concern. In fact, I could run up to the house and let Elaina know we have guests if you’d like to stay for lunch.” 

“Oh, we wouldn’t want—” 

“I’ll go pass the message,” Sera chirped, not waiting for a response before she bounded off in the direction of the main house. Shianna stared after her, wondering why she’d be so eager to play fetch again. 

The Iron Bull sighed and dropped his reins. “I better go see what she’s up to. You got this, Boss?” 

She nodded absently, her gaze following Sera’s bounding leaps up the dirt path. 

As Dennet worked on the horse’s missing shoe, they chatted a bit about life post-Inquisition. It seemed the moment he returned home, his daughter struck out on her own, settling near Denerim to be closer to the horse races there. While his wife didn’t approve of that choice, Dennet himself hid a small, proud smile when he spoke of his only child. It seemed she was making a bit of a name for herself, one beginning to reach beyond Ferelden’s borders. 

He wasn’t an overly talkative man, but enough so that the time passed fairly quickly. Soon the job was done and the horses were left to meander in the fenced field as they headed to the house for lunch. 

Cold sandwiches and a leafy green salad awaited them upon entry, and everyone gathered around for the meal. Elaina greeted her with a respectful nod and said she was glad to see her in good health, but wasn’t overly personal with her questions. Shianna hadn’t known the woman terribly well, but she always struck her as strong and stoic, reserving most shows of emotion for those closest to her. 

Shianna knew that compulsion well. 

She didn’t have much in the way of expectations for the food, but the first bite stopped her cold. Drawn by the rich green of the salad, she took a heaping forkful of leaves and chomped down. Her mouth exploded with flavor, coating her tongue with the rich, buttery taste of... 

Chocolate? 

Utterly surprised, she chewed slowly, trying to determine why a garden vegetable would taste like a decadent dessert. Nothing she ever came across had such a flavor, and she was very well-versed in all manner of edible plants. 

Curious, she turned to Elaina. “May I ask you something?” 

The older woman’s lips pinched slightly, restraining herself. “Certainly.” 

“What variety of greens are these?” 

Elaina shrugged. “Lettuce, mostly. Some of the root vegetables I grow have edible leaves as well. I threw them in since I was using the other bits for tonight’s stew. Is something the matter?” 

Shianna took another bite, flummoxed. “The dressing then, what did you use besides the oil?” 

Sera let loose a tiny giggle, but squelched it the moment Shianna looked at her. 

“Is something the matter with the food, child?” 

“What? No, not at all.” She shook her head fiercely. “I’ve simply never had a salad that tasted like chocolate before. It’s quite remarkable.” 

“I knew it!” Sera shouted, triumphant, as she stood and pointed an accusing finger. “You _are_ inquisiting for two!” 

“Sera!” Shianna gasped. “Don’t—” 

“It’s your body craving the nutrients of these leaves,” Elaina explained, holding up a skinny piece of greens. “I thought it might be too early to tell, but it seems I was wrong. Must be, what, seven, eight weeks along?” 

Horrified, Shianna sank back in her chair, limp and numb. Pregnant? She scoured her memory for what she learned from the herbalists at Skyhold and within her clan. Was it true about the leaves? Something tickled in the back of her mind, some long-discarded information whispered between older girls when she young. A first test of being with child? 

“Boss? You all right?” 

Her eyes misted over, her vision blurring with tears. All right? No. Definitely not all right. Torn between elation and miserable dread, the drops trickled down her cheeks, cutting cool paths across heated skin. She should be happy. She should be smiling. She should be laughing uncontrollably. 

Abject fear clouded all of the things she should have felt, obscuring them in a tangle of horrific possibilities. 

It couldn’t be. 

She couldn’t have that. She _couldn’t_. 

They weren’t allowed it. How could they be? What happiness they’d been granted was miraculous enough, but a baby, too? What terror would descend to rip it all away? She wasn’t sure she could survive such a loss. There’d be nothing left of her to save. 

At the touch of fingers on her arm, Shianna bolted, knocking over her chair as she sprinted out the door and through the yard. She jumped the fences, barreling away from anyone who knew, who might make it too real. Her legs carried her past the last farm and up the hill. Reaching a ledge that once held a mounted, whispering skull, she sank to her knees, gasping for breath as the waves of emotion washed over her. 

A baby. 

A family. 

Something so precious that could be stolen in half a heartbeat. 

A wonder, a life, that more enemies than she could count might use to hurt her. 

The potential for so much happiness and joy, and all she could do was cry. Not for the first time, she desperately wished there was someone else in charge of things. Someone else giving the orders to tell her what to do. 

But even the gods were silent on the matter. 

Something warm vibrated against her chest, pulsing softly. The sensation rippled through her, soothing her with the easy comfort of familiarity. 

Shianna sat back, wiping her eyes and hoping she didn’t look as terrible as she felt. With a deep breath, she pulled up on the chain around her neck, the locket easing out of her shirt to reveal the soft glow of an incoming connection. 

Placing it on her palm, she steadied herself. Another moment passed, and she flipped open the gold amulet, revealing the sending crystal her friend left her as a parting gift. 

Dorian’s face appeared within the facets, perfectly shaped dark brows knitted in concern. 

Shianna bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Of course Bull would have contacted him. He was as close to the magister as she was, maybe more so.  

The words drifted up from her hand, the sound of his voice soothing her as few others could. 

“Tell me.” 

 

***THREE***

 

She stared at the grass beneath her, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Shianna.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Look at me, please.” 

With a sigh, she raised her eyes, desperately wishing he was there to help her through it. 

“Have you decided what to do yet?” 

Shaking her head, she looked away again. 

“I can’t make the choice for you, but, if it were me…” 

When he trailed off, she turned her eyes back to the sending crystal, hoping he wouldn’t offer her a choice, instead ordering her to a course of action she could blame on someone else, leave the responsibility of choosing in another’s hands. 

“I’ve never been much for doing the prudent thing, which is probably why we’re friends. Alike in that way, aren’t we?” Dorian waved a flippant hand in front of his face. “I say you fight for what makes you happy. Damn the risks. Take hold with both hands and plunge headlong into danger. That’s gotten you this far, hasn’t it?” 

She rubbed her chin against her shoulder, scratching an itch. “It’s one thing to do that when it’s only my life on the line. This is…” She released a tired sigh. “This is another thing entirely. I can’t be selfish when it comes to this. If something happened, if I couldn’t…” 

Her eyes watered as her throat constricted once more, cutting off her words. 

“I can only imagine, dearest. Believe me, I understand your heart. I can’t tell you what to do, but whatever you need, whatever you decide, I’m here no matter what.” 

She sniffled a little and nodded. “Thank you, Dorian.” 

“Feeling any better yet?” 

“Less hysterical, anyway. I should probably get back to them. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day, I think.” 

“Well, make sure you thank that lummox for letting me know you were in distress. I rather like playing the hero, and if you don’t give him enough credit he might cut me off.” 

At last, she felt a small, genuine laugh bubble in her throat. “It’s adorable you think he’d ever deny you anything.” 

Dorian rolled his eyes, a look that never failed to lift her spirits. “How you continue insisting a big, bad magister like me and a massive horned beast like him are anywhere in the vicinity of adorable gives me headaches trying to understand.” 

“Must be my feminine sensibilities clouding my judgment.” 

He barked a loud laugh and shook his head. “And she has jokes! Now I know you’re feeling better. All right. I’d better find out what party Maevaris is insisting we attend tonight. If you need me for any reason at all, though, don’t hesitate to contact me, got it?” 

“Is that an order?” 

“Only because I know you secretly like that sort of thing.” 

“From your lips to my husband’s ears.” She smirked at the crystal, already missing him. 

“I can arrange that.” 

With another laugh, she waved him off. “Go flounce for your countrymen then. Do have a drink for me, won’t you?” 

“For you, my friend, I’ll drain a cask dry.” 

His image faded, as did the pulse of the sending crystal, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more. While Dorian had at least broken the chokehold of fear gripping her, he hadn’t done much else in the way of making her choice more clear. Dorian followed his heart, no matter where that led, but his advice wasn’t overly practical. Although, if she wanted a straight, practical answer, Vivienne was likely a far better option. She could almost hear the First Enchanter’s words echoing in her ears. 

_“Not something you can afford, my dear. Some gambles are not worth the risk.”_

Shianna winced, feeling the sting of anguish the mere thought of termination brought on. Cullen would never forgive her if he found out, and keeping it from him was a very bad idea. All secrets came to light eventually, and that would only make it worse when he learned the truth. 

And so she sat there, wondering if this was her comeuppance for stealing happiness. After all, if she truly felt responsible for keeping the world safe, shouldn’t she have spent her days scouring every corner of Thedas and beyond for Solas? Wasn’t attempting a life with Cullen the selfish choice? She could rationalize it all she liked, but at the end of every day, wasn’t that always in the back of her mind? 

What would her theft cost the world? Every living and breathing thing depended on them stopping whatever the Dread Wolf was planning. Would she doom them all by not doing more? 

Movement in the distance caught her eye, and she watched them for a moment. Bull led his mount with as much unflustered surety as he always did, headed the direction she’d taken in her desperate flight. Behind him, her steps slower, Sera followed with the two horses. Shianna wondered if perhaps the elf felt a bit guilty for what her persistence wrought. Friend or no, it wasn’t her place to force a person to know anything. Maybe it came from honest concern, but Sera liked being right far too much, a desire which often trumped the greater good. 

Scrubbing at her face to rid herself of the last of her tears, Shianna got to her feet and headed down the slope to meet them. They still had a job to do, after all, and she didn’t have the time to get sidetracked. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Her companions said nothing about her outburst or the other issue the rest of the day. The hours of travel were almost entirely silent outside of small necessities like choosing a camp site. Bull took care of most everything, but Shianna refused to let him set up her tent or help her down from her horse. She wasn’t an invalid, after all. As far as she was concerned, nothing had changed from the day they set out. 

The scent of dinner cooking sent her into a fresh round of retching, which mostly killed her appetite. As she poked at the mound of campfire beans, a new, welling sadness flooded up around her. 

She missed roasted nug, even though the smell of it turned her stomach. 

“Boss?” 

She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to see the slow, heavy tears sliding down her cheeks. 

“Hey.” He set his plate aside and crouched in front of her. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Whatever you need, I’m there.” 

“It’s not…” she blubbered the end of her words, sniffed, then started again. “It’s not that. It’s…” 

“It’s what?” 

Unable to control it, she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed against his shoulder. Her untouched meal fell from her lap, beans and gravy splattering the dirt and their shoes. “I like roasted nug, but it makes me sick! I hardly ever get to eat your cooking anymore and if I’m… If I can’t travel I’ll never get to have it again and probably never see you and something will happen and I’ll be as useless as a helmet on halla!” 

He didn’t move at first, but then his shoulders relaxed, the twitch of his muscles signaling suppressed laughter while wrapping her in a hug. 

“It’s not funny,” she mumbled against his skin. “Everything is horrible!” 

“I’m not laughing at you, Boss. It’s just a little funny that you think a rugrat or two is enough to get rid of me.” He eased her away and lifted her chin, smiling as he swiped a thumb across her wet cheek. “Demons, dragons, and darkspawn couldn’t drive me off. Why would this?” 

“This might not even happen.” Shianna dropped her gaze. “It’s a selfish thing I can’t afford.” 

“Why?” Sera said from her perch on a fallen tree. “Why can’t you? Because some arse-old elf decided he can’t change the past so fuck the future? Bollocks. Why is that on you? Do what you can and hand the rest to someone else. If some nothing Dalish elf from the butt-end of nowhere can swoop in and save the world, who knows what other sorts of heroes are knocking about with no one the wiser? If there’s anyone in Thedas who’s earned retirement from hero-ing, it’s you. I mean, Andraste’s tits, you _literally_ gave your left arm to save everyone. How much more should you have to give up before it’s enough?” 

Shianna glared. “Some people don’t get to be happy, Sera. Life doesn’t owe me anything, no matter what I have or haven’t done. Sometimes, all you get is fucked, no matter how hard you fight or how good you try to be.” 

“Oh, well that’s that then, I suppose.” She rolled her eyes and tossed her plate away. “Just give up then, is that it? You know what that is? That’s garbage, that’s what. Maybe life doesn’t owe you anything. Fine. So then you take what you want. Nobody ever gets handed stuff with a pat on the back and an atta boy. Never. We fight for everything we need, everything we hope for. You taught me that, so why are you being stupid? Did you say all that shite and not mean it? Or does it just not apply to you?” 

Bull growled a warning. “Sera…” 

“No,” she said, nose in the air. “It’s a valid question. She doesn’t need coddling, she needs to decide for herself what she wants, and then fight for that. Why’s that so bloody hard? It’s the simplest damned thing in the world, and she’s sitting there hemming and hawing over whether or not she deserves the chance to be happy after all that mess. You don’t want to keep it, fine. I know a guy. But if you do…” Her bluster faltered, and she scowled at the fire, her voice dipping into a softer tone. “Well, I don’t got much experience with kids, but I can think of worse folk’n me to help keep watch over ‘em.” 

Shianna stared at her, throat tightening more with every passing second. It wasn’t a choice she wanted to make, one she’d worked very hard to _avoid_ having to make. If Sera had simply left it alone, hadn’t pushed, just let the whole thing be… 

“It wasn’t your place,” she whispered. 

Sera shifted, uneasy. “What?” 

“Proving I was pregnant,” Shianna said, less of a tremble in her voice, but anger overcoming the sadness in a rushing wave. “It wasn’t your place to prove it, or make sure I knew about it. Why would you meddle that way? What business of yours was it? Were you just that determined to be right that you couldn’t let it go? Was it worth it? Are you happy now? Sera was right! That’s all that matters, so forget what anyone else thinks or has to feel about it! Is that how it is? Maybe I didn’t _want_ to know. Did that ever occur to you? Maybe something happens on this trip and it goes away. What then? I’ll have to live with knowing what almost was, what I could’ve had, rather than carrying on in total ignorance and imperfect happiness. And maybe we get there and I die. Would you be the one to tell Cullen not only did he lose his wife, but an unborn child as well? Do you want that burden, Sera? Could you bear to see his face at the news? This was _my_ discovery to make, _my_ news to tell or not. Did you think about that at all? Did you think about _me_?” 

Sera’s hands balled into fists, her face flushing red in the firelight. “Of course I did. I’m your friend!” 

“Funny fucking way to show it!” 

The two stared each other down in heated silence for several long moments, the Iron Bull glancing warily between them, ready to break up a fight should the need arise. After a minute or two, Sera’s body relaxed, and she took a step back before turning away, heading for her tent. 

“I suppose that’s the truth of it, then. Believe what you want. Night, I guess.” 

Shianna swallowed hard, a watery film clouding her sight. Yelling at Sera was irrational and terrible, so why had she done it? Her mind had slipped from sadness to rage in a heartbeat, all of it directed at someone who had nothing to do with her predicament, aside from being an easy target. Perhaps Sera had been wrong to meddle that way, but was it worth ending a friendship over? 

Wounded and tired, Shianna stood and stepped away from the campfire. “Wake me for the next watch, all right? I need a few hours of sleep before I’ll be good for anything.” 

 

* * * * * 

 

The sound of morning birds startled her from sleep, and Shianna sprang out of her tent, slightly panicked. 

“What’s going on? Why didn’t anyone…” She stopped when she saw Bull sitting by the doused fire, tearing into a strip of dried meat. “Were you up all night? Why didn’t you wake me for watch? You should’ve—” 

He interrupted with a long sigh. “I didn’t wake you because I woke Sera instead. Got up myself just a few minutes before you and saw that.” 

Bull hooked a thumb behind him, and Shianna followed the line of sight, stopping on the empty patch of land where Sera’s tent had been the night before. 

Her eyebrows lifted, mouth going slack. “She… left?” 

He grunted something noncommittal. 

“Because I got angry with her? She… she just packed up and abandoned us?” 

Bull took another bite of meat. 

“And you didn’t hear anything? Didn’t try to stop her?” 

Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, he turned in his seat to look at her. “If I’ve learned anything about the two of you, it’s that no one can stop either of you from doing stuff, no matter how idiotic that stuff is. Even if I _had_ heard her go, exactly what would you have suggested I do? Tie her up? Pretty sure she’s not really into that sort of thing.” 

Approaching the spot Sera’s horse had been secured the night before, Shianna checked the dirt for tracks. Hoof prints led away from camp, opposite the direction they needed to go to reach Valammar. She had a choice. If she went after her friend to apologize, they’d likely miss their window of opportunity for Leliana’s information. But if they continued on their mission…

Shianna bristled. “She’s testing me, isn’t she?” 

“Meaning what?” 

“If we go after her now, this whole trip will have been for nothing. She’s essentially making me decide between her and potentially saving the world, as I can’t do both right now. Who knows how far she’s gotten already? I just…” She kicked a rock, sending it bouncing through the underbrush. “I know I need to apologize, but…” 

“Apologize for what? She was out of line, and you told her so,” he said, absently scanning the treeline to the east. 

Shianna shook her head. “No, I screamed at someone who’s been a good friend for years over my frustration about something that isn’t her fault. I just… I couldn’t stop it once I opened my mouth. And now she’s gone, and I can’t even tell her I’m sorry.” 

Irritated with herself and the world, she trudged off to break down her tent and load up. After getting her first vomit of the day taken care of, the pair saddled up. Shianna took one last moment to gaze in the direction of Sera’s tracks, sighed quietly, then spurred her horse on toward their destination. 

The silence as they rode weighed heavy on her. She’d grown accustomed to the playful banter Sera provided on their travels, and being without it felt very wrong. Bull seemed wrapped up in his thoughts, which only left her to cycle through her own miserable choices for the entirety of the last leg of the journey. It was a relief to see the banks of Lake Luthias finally come into view, but it was a short-lived reprieve. At the sight of the water, new worries took hold. 

What if it was a trap after all? 

What if the darkspawn broke through and couldn’t be contained? 

What if she got hurt? 

What if— 

“Looks all clear so far,” Bull said, interrupting her mildly panicked thoughts. “I see one set of fresh prints around here, but they’re very light.” 

Shianna shook herself to clear her head, then dismounted. Being so distracted was dangerous. “We’ll secure the horses and continue on foot, then. Go in as quiet as we can.” 

Beneath the waterfall covering the entrance to the old dwarven stronghold, Shianna tensed, listening as sharply as she could for anything aside from the rush of water cascading over rocks. With Bull to the other side of the doorway, she pushed open the entrance and peered around the chiseled frame. 

Not a sign of movement or hint of anything disturbed. 

Unsheathing her staff, Shianna waved it in a quiet circle, enchanting the two of them with a protective barrier in case of an ambush. She took a silent, deep breath, then eased around the corner into the darkened corridor. Leaves rustled in the slight breeze cutting through the passageway, the air carrying the hint of cool stone, the bite of heated sulphur chasing it. They crept up the stairs leading to the massive bridge, their every nerve on edge, seeking out any sign of movement or careless howl of a darkspawn. Nothing but toppled stone greeted them at the bridge. The whisper of a satisfied smirk toyed with her lip as she noted the scorch marks left from their clashes with Carta and Blight-ridden creatures in years past. With the outpost abandoned, no one was on clean-up duty, and so those reminders of long-won battles remained.  

From between the legs of a gigantic statue of a dwarven paragon, Shianna scanned the lower walkways visible from the bridge. Nothing but stillness met her eye, and not so much as a whisper of trouble presented itself. The eerie calm persisted as they crossed the chasm, up the stairs, winding around empty halls, skirting the edges of the gaping maw until they reached the intricate locks designed by the dwarf master smith, Bianca. The entrance was meant for her use only, but as the Inquisition intervened after her disastrous mistake with red lyrium, she owed them a favor or two to make up for it. 

Four raps, a pause, then a fifth knock, the signal for whoever awaited them. 

Her foot slid back into a ready stance as stone ground against stone, the door dropping into the floor to allow them passage. When the room came into view, Shianna froze, not at all expecting the smile awaiting them. 

“Leliana?” 

Sister Nightingale put a finger to her lips and motioned them through, resealing the door as soon as they were inside. 

“I was getting worried you weren’t coming. Did you have any trouble on the way?” 

Bull opened his mouth to speak, but Shianna cut him off. “A thrown shoe, but nothing beyond that. Sorry to worry you.” 

The spymaster waved them onwards, to a workbench covered in maps instead of tools. Shianna scanned them with a frown. 

“What’s all this? If you’ve come in person, it must be big.” 

She nodded once, her hood dousing her face in a long shadow for a moment. “I’ve heard something I think requires your input before I act on it. It may require a bit more travel for you than normal.” 

“How so?” 

Leliana tugged the bottom edge of a tattered map, pulling it in front of them. “With what I’ve been able to gather for information, it’s likely the disappearing elves are headed here.” Her finger rested on a spot in the Northern portion of the map. “But where they go from there, I’ve yet to determine.” 

“Tevinter?” Shianna stared at it, torn between excitement and dread. “You’re certain?” 

“My people have only been able to get this far before all contact stops. I can’t find out too much more with the indirect method. I believe it’s time to step up the pursuit.” 

Shianna fidgeted with her staff, desperately pushing back on her panic. “And so… What, then?” 

Leliana cocked her head to the side, lifting her eyebrows quizzically. “You don’t think it’s time for you to see for yourself? I thought perhaps under pretense of visiting a certain magister in—” 

She couldn’t help it. First one tear, then the floodgates opened. No matter how tightly she pinched her eyes shut or willed her wet cheeks to dry, one after another coursed down her face. 

Go? To Tevinter? How could she? How could she possibly put herself at risk when— 

“What’s the matter? Why… Are you crying?” 

Shianna responded with a single, choked sob. 

“There, uh, may be something she neglected to tell you,” Bull offered, sheepish. “The thing is—” 

“I’m pregnant!” Shianna blurted. “It’s possibly the worst and most wonderful thing to come out of this whole mess, because what do I do? If Cullen finds out, there’s no way he’d let me go to Tevinter. What if something happened to me? There’s no telling what Solas is hiding away, and I can’t endanger… But then if I don’t go, who else could? Part of me thinks I should just get rid—” 

“Don’t you dare even think of it!” Leliana grabbed her shoulders, spinning Shianna to face her. “I won’t hear of it.” 

“But…” She sniffled. “But it’s so selfish to want—” 

“A family?” Leliana shook her head. “That isn’t at all selfish. Children are gifts from the Maker, and you mustn’t throw such a precious thing away.” 

“But who else—” 

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll find someone capable.” She smiled and wiped a tear away from Shianna’s chin. “After all you’ve done, I think maybe this is a sign. Your part is played for now. It’s time to rest. If He needs you again, He knows where to find you.” 

Shianna searched the spymaster’s face for any trace of doubt, but all she found was kind understanding with a hint of joy. She wasn’t Andrastian herself, but the comfort in her friend’s words eased her heart more than she would have thought. 

“Does this mean no more birds?” 

Leliana laughed and grinned. “I wouldn’t say that, but maybe a good deal fewer. You can’t leave it all to me and Her Holiness alone. Can you imagine the endless bickering? If nothing else, you’ll have to settle our arguments.” 

Wiping her eyes, Shianna smiled and answered with a nod. “I can definitely do that. But what will you do next?” 

“First? Get out of this cave. I’ve had about all I can stand of the Deep Roads for a while. I think I saw an ogre skulking about yesterday, and I’d prefer to avoid that encounter if at all possible.” She waved it away. “I’m only sorry I dragged you both out here for nothing. If I’d known sooner…” 

Bull chuckled. “Be hard for you to have known before, as she only confirmed it yesterday. Your network is impressive, but that’d be borderline prophetic.” 

Leliana paused, surprised. “Wait, so you mean the commander doesn’t…” 

Shianna shook her head, anxious. How would he react when he heard the news? Would he be anywhere near as terrified as she was? 

“Well what are you doing still standing here, then?” As efficient as ever, she bustled the elf and qunari towards the door. “Something like this can’t wait.” 

As the spymaster spun the wheel to let them out, Shianna turned to her, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Leliana. I—” 

The roar was instant and deafening, catching them all off guard. Before realization hit, the seething darkspawn muscled its way into the room, rearing back to strike. Shianna scrambled for her staff, desperate to protect herself— her child— from the sudden danger, but she knew she wouldn’t be fast enough. The monster’s arm came back, its mouth gaping wide… 

Silence. 

Then a choking, gurgling sound. 

The darkspawn clawed at its throat, hopelessly pawing at the arrowheads protruding through its neck as it drowned in its own blood. It sank to its knees, eyes wide and confused before the glint of a sharpened bolt emerged from between its eyes. Shianna skittered back as the Blighted creature slumped forward, blood oozing onto the stone beneath it. 

“Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” Sera stuck a hand on her hip, leaning on her bow behind the fallen mass. “Good thing for you I brought extra arrows, innit?” 

Overwhelmed with relief, Shianna leapt over the dead darkspawn and nearly tackled her friend in a hug. “I’m so sorry I yelled at you! It was stupid, and I was frustrated, and I know you were just trying to help, and—” 

Sera laughed and patted her back. “I’ve heard you say stupider things, so need to go to mush now. Baby or not, I’ll still punch you if you make me cry.” 

Endlessly thankful for her friends, Shianna pulled away and swiped at her eyes. “You wouldn’t really punch me, would you?” 

She shrugged and sniffed a little. “Eh, maybe not. Probably punch the Bull first for letting you nearly walk into getting yourself killed. Again.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” Bull grinned at her. 

“What you gonna do, throw me? Gotta catch me first, and last I checked them horns aren’t too great at sneaking up on anyone.” 

“Perhaps this argument could wait until we’re out of the darkspawn-infested caves?” Shianna interrupted. “I’d very much like to see my husband as soon as possible.” 

“In a hurry to get back on that boat, eh?” Sera chided. 

Shianna groaned, then turned back to Leliana with a sigh. “Keep me updated on this?” 

The corner of her mouth turned up in a wry grin as she pointed at Shianna’s stomach. “Only if you promise to keep me updated on that.” 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, nodding. “Absolutely. I’ll let Cassandra know myself, though I’d give anything to see her face at the news.” 

They said their goodbyes and parted ways, clearing out another two stray darkspawn as they went, but nothing overly taxing. Admittedly, Shianna was glad the trip hadn’t been more arduous, as she couldn’t remember ever being so constantly tired before. 

As the entrance to Valammar faded behind the waterfall, she allowed herself one tiny moment to relax. 

She was going home. 

To him. 

 

* * * * * 

 

A mile from the farm, Shianna slowed to a stop. Anxiety crept up on her more and more with each passing moment over the course of the trip. Nothing she did could shake the looming dread from her mind. 

What if she chose wrong? 

“Feeling queasy again already, Harold? Hasn’t been but two hours since your last—” 

Shianna shook her head, shoulders tight. “No, it’s not that, I just…” She looked at Sera, unable to mask her worry. “Tell me honestly. Do you think this is the wrong decision? I don’t only mean for me and him, I mean... Bigger picture. Is it wrong of me to stop everything for this?” 

Sera paused, tilting her head to one side as she thought. After some deliberation, she seemed to settle on something. “What did Leliana say?” 

“She thinks it’s a sign from the Maker, but… Well, that’s not really an answer for me.” She picked at a worn seam on her horse’s bridle. It would have to be mended soon. “It’s enough for her, but I don’t have that kind of blind faith. Not in gods anyway.” 

Bull pulled up alongside them, sighing impatiently. “Look at it this way. From what I gather, you did everything outside of going celibate to prevent this, right?” 

Shianna nodded, glum. 

“But it still happened anyway?” 

Another silent nod. 

He blew out a breath of frustration. “I don’t know about Makers or gods or whatever, but seems to me that’s a damn good sign the world wants you to sit down for a while, probably for your own good. Whatever’s coming, maybe this is life’s way of saying it’s not your job to fix stuff now. We’re all getting older, why not give the young bucks a shot to do what maybe we can’t? Generals guide their men successfully because they have experience, but it’s not them welding the swords anymore. Maybe don’t think of this as a retirement, so much as a promotion. If anyone in this fucked up world is qualified for that, it’s gotta be you, Boss.” 

“Flat shoes for everyone,” she said, her bluster only half-hearted. “That kind of thing?” 

Sera snorted. “You ever fought demons in heels? I don’t think any noble knob alive ever made such a smart proclamation or whatever it is they do. Bull’s right, though. And you do look pretty when you’re ordering everyone else about.” 

Shianna smiled a little, anxiety’s grip losing some of its hold on her. Noting the sinking sun, she took a deep breath. “Thank you both. Maybe you’re right. It’s hard to shake old habits, though. I hope you won’t completely leave me out of your adventures, will you?” 

“Nah, no worries,” Sera waved it off. “Think I’d pass up the chance to see all your new softness? I’d miss the view.” 

Snapping the reins, Shianna chuckled. “Just don’t let my husband catch you ogling. He’s already jealous enough.” 

“Ain’t no harm in lookin’!” Sera called out behind her. “And I don’t care how soft you get, dwarves will always have more where it counts!” 

The smell of stew greeted them as they neared the barracks en route to the stables, but they didn’t pause at the sound of the Chargers breaking into song. Once she decided on her course of action, nothing was going to slow her down. 

Bull immediately relieved her of her mount when they stopped, insisting he and Sera would see to the horses and retire for the night. Grateful for their understanding, Shianna hurried away, beelining for the house before Cullen returned from dinner. At the very least, she wanted to rid herself of the clothes she spent days upon days traveling in. Perhaps she couldn’t give him some grand romantic setting, but at least she could wipe the dirt from her face. 

As she finished drying her hands, the kitchen door blew open, followed by pounding footsteps over the floorboards until he reached their room. Tossing the towel aside, Shianna offered him a smile, but before she could say a word, Cullen gathered her in his arms, a heated embrace his immediate greeting. 

She laughed against his mouth. “Miss me, did you?” 

“When Sera and Bull showed up without you, I… You’re back so soon. Not that I’m complaining, but I worry something terrible’s happened to bring you home so quickly. Am I mad to think so? You’re all right, aren’t you?” 

Looking at him, seeing her anxiety mirrored in the bunched lines of his face, her heart ached with how much he cared for her. Witnessing his dedication, knowing how completely he loved her, that alone shattered her doubts. 

“I’m… Yes. Perfectly healthy and home now. It seems I will be for a good long while, too.” 

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why? How could… I mean, not that I’m not grateful for it, but… What happened? What information could possibly result in… I don’t understand. Exactly what happened in Valammar?” 

Finally, the pure joy she’d held back on eased out of the ties she bound it with, and true laughter shook her shoulders at his bewilderment. 

“This is hardly something to joke about. What’s so funny?” 

“I’m not joking at all, vhenan.” She chuckled and swiped at her eyes. “Unless you’d like me in Tevinter and out of your hair for a year.” 

“I don’t… What?” 

Grinning, Shianna took his hand and pulled him down to sit on the bed. “As amusing as your confusion is, I think I should explain.” 

“That would be nice, yes,” he grumbled.  

“Leliana was waiting for us in Valammar,” she said. “Her people pointed her to Northern Tevinter, but she needs more firepower to get any further with it. Originally, she wanted me to go, but…” 

She paused, needing to catch her breath. A lingering twinge of doubt tugged at her. What would the selfish choice cost the world? 

“But what? She changed her mind?” 

Shianna looked at Cullen, trying to read the future in his dark eyes. What she saw there was not hints of what was to come, but a promise. 

No matter what happened, no matter how bleak, no matter the pain, he would always be there. Never would she doubt his heart. 

“She thinks your Maker has another plan for me.” 

His brow bunched, the creases in his skin carrying her own worries. 

“She thinks that’s why he’d send us a child.” 

Cullen didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. “What?” 

Swallowing hard against the gathering tears, she stared at their entwined fingers, holding them tighter. “We stopped at Redcliffe Farms. I didn’t want to believe it. How could I? I’d been so careful, but… Elaina confirmed it. She says I’m nearly two months along. I… If you’re angry with me… I know we decided not to, but—” 

With a kiss both immediate and unshakable, Cullen silenced her rambling. For the first time since her friends voiced their suspicions, her tears spilled down her face out of sheer happiness. 

He wanted a child as much as she did. 

Her sniffling laugh ended their kiss, but he held her tight to him. His breath against her hair cooled his own joyful tears, neither able to speak for several minutes. 

“I would never, not once, tried to force you to it. You know that, don’t you? I know the risks, love, and know how much it pained you to—”  

“I know. I didn’t…” She sucked in a ragged breath. “Bull said it’s the world’s way of showing me what I need to do. Maybe it’s your Maker, maybe it’s not, but I have to believe it’s for a reason, vhenan. It’s a gift, a reason to rest, and a reward for what we’ve lost.” 

Shianna pulled back, gazing up at his face, enraptured by the awe in his eyes as he looked at her. “And it’s the greatest reason to fight that I could ever think of. I will protect this life, our lives, with all of myself for as long as I’m able. Bel’annar’is, vhenan. He’ll not take either of you from me so long as there is blood in my veins and breath in my lungs.” 

Cullen brushed the dark waves of hair from her forehead, pressing a kiss against her skin. “Until my last, my love, whether it’s my shield, my sword, or my soul, all I am is yours.” 

There, in the comfort of his arms, the rest of the world went quiet. Perhaps tomorrow it would turn to doom, and their final moments would vanish in a heartbeat. Perhaps everything would burn away, scorched by magic held back for eons. Perhaps all would disappear in a flash of power before blinking out forever. 

But for those remaining hours, she would forever live in the solace of their room. 

The scent of dust on wood. 

Shadows of leaves on the glass. 

A moment cherished. A moment etched in her mind. 

Suspended, spirit stretching to hold it. 

Until it flickered, passing back to the river of time. 

Forever hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story and want to see more romance in a high fantasy setting, be sure to check out TEMPERED HEARTS, the first novel in my new HEARTS OF VALENTIA series, on Amazon.com.
> 
> www.getBook.at/TemperedHearts
> 
> May the Dread Wolf never hear your steps!


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